


Safe

by Iverna



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Canon Divergence, Captain Swan - Freeform, Gen, silliness, sorry emma but you did not think that through did you
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-09
Updated: 2018-10-09
Packaged: 2019-07-28 19:28:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,838
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16248305
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Iverna/pseuds/Iverna
Summary: Emma wants to move back to New York, because it’s safe. Not because she’s scared of getting attached to people in Storybrooke. Definitely not because of a certain far-too-appealing pirate. No, it’s about safety. Which is why when Killian offers to help, she’s... furious.A silly little canon divergence during the season 3 finale - no portal, no time travel, just Killian being a bit devious.





	Safe

_Like mother, like daughter._

Such a little phrase, a throwaway comment, and yet it seems to make the ground under Emma’s feet very unsteady. Regina demands to know what it means. Snow looks upset. Henry is definitely upset.

Shit.

She makes a break for it, storming out of the diner and along the road until she gets to the park, where she sits on a bench and fumes.

Damn the pirate. Why can’t he ever keep that sinful mouth of his shut?

“Swan?”

She looks up, and there he is, as if she summoned him. He doesn’t ask before sitting on the bench next to her, far too close, far too... everything.

“Don’t you care about them?” he asks, blue eyes too intense, too searching. “Or anyone in this town?”

She wants to deny it, but he’s looking at her like his life depends on the answer, like his heart will break if she lies, and she can’t bring herself to do it.

“Of course I care,” she says, and her voice cracks. “I just have to do what’s best for me, and Henry...”

For some infuriating reason, she can feel tears in her eyes. She wants to reach out to him, take his hand, brush that errant strand of dark hair off his forehead.

_Abort._

She leans back, glaring at him. “You shouldn’t have told them.”

He glares right back, the vulnerability from before replaced by anger, and she feels a pang, like she just broke something through sheer carelessness. “Then perhaps you ought to have told me it was a secret. I assumed that, since it affects them, they already knew.”

She doesn’t care for the accusation she hears. She also doesn’t care for the realisation that, yeah, she didn’t actually tell him to keep his mouth shut. For that matter, she didn’t tell him that no one else knows about her plans to leave, either. He’s the only one she talked to about it.

“Well, they know now, anyway,” she snaps. “Thanks for that.”

He huffs out a humourless laugh. “Swan, how exactly were you going to leave without informing them at some point? Or were you planning to slink away one night without so much as a goodbye?”

“Of course not!” She can’t seem to keep the tears at bay, so she jumps to her feet, away from him. “But it’s none of your business!”

She storms away again. She half-expects him to go after her again, but he doesn’t. Which is fine. She didn’t want him to, anyway. Didn’t want him to try and persuade her to stay, or lighten the mood with a flirtatious remark, or look at her with those soulful blue eyes that hold far too much emotion.

Which is just as well, because he doesn’t do any of those things.

Damn him.

It turns into a debate later, in the loft, complete with a rare and rather impressive tantrum by Henry, a lot of anger from Regina, and some futile attempts at keeping the peace and hiding their obvious upset by Snow and David. The guilt of it all is trying to smother Emma, but she can’t... she can’t.

“I just want to do what’s best for Henry,” Emma insists. Henry, by now, has stormed off upstairs, furious. “New York is safe, and he has friends there—”

“He has  _family_  here,” Regina counters.

“But it’s not safe!” Emma snaps. “Witches and demons and all kinds of, of  _villains_ , I mean there’s always something trying to curse us or kill us!”

“Which we can protect him from,” Regina says.

“But in New York, I don’t  _have_  to. It’s  _safe_.”

“It’s safe here,” Snow tries. “We’ll make it safe. Emma... we only  _just_  got you back.”

Emma swallows back another surge of guilt, and slides a look over at Killian. He’s leaning back against the kitchen island, the only one in the room who looks at ease. His eyes are on Emma, though, and there’s a discomfiting intensity in that blue gaze. Too perceptive.

But he hasn’t said anything. Hasn’t tried to talk her into staying, hasn’t said much of anything beyond “hello”. The earnestness from the park bench is gone, and Emma does not miss it.

She does  _not_.

“I know,” she says to Snow, swallowing back the storm of emotion inside her. “I know, I just...”

She can’t stay here. She can’t. She’s going to get attached, and they’re going to figure out how messed up she is, and they’ll stop wanting her, and her heart will break. They’ll figure out that she cares, and then she’s screwed. Let people know your feelings, and they’ll exploit them.

“It’s your choice, Swan,” Killian says, apparently interpreting her glance as an invitation to contribute his opinion. “If you think it’s best, then by all means you should go.”

They all stare at him, Emma included. He shrugs. “I’ll go with you.”

Emma feels her eyes widen. “What?!”

He shrugs again, shifting his weight against the counter, and a smirk tugs at his lips. “I’ll go with you, to New York.”

“You can’t!” she says wildly.

“Why not? I wasn’t cursed. I’m at perfect liberty to go wherever I like in this realm, and New York sounds lovely. I have fond memories.”

“You got  _arrested_.” He can’t come with her. He can’t be there with her. She can’t be in New York with Killian Jones, that’s worse than being here with him.

The smirk grows. “Nowhere is perfect. I’ll take my chances.”

“You are not coming with me.”

“What’s the problem?” He’s provoking her, that little gleam in his eyes says so, even if she’s not entirely sure how or why. “You wish to move there because it’s safe. It’ll be safer still with me around to help keep an eye out. In case any more flying monkeys show up, or the Dark One decides to take another jaunt out there, to this very safe city of yours.”

She was wrong; he’s not provoking her. He’s  _taunting_  her. And he’s looking far too good doing it, too.

“You are  _not_ ,” she presses out, “coming with me.”

“I think it’s a great idea,” David says, looking a little amazed at the words coming out of his mouth. When Emma glares at him, he shrugs, and the expression on his face is pure  _dad_. Feigned innocence, a touch of smugness, all over the knowledge that he’s provoking his kid. “He’s good in a fight.”

“He’s—!” Annoying. Dedicated. Gorgeous. Infuriating.

And very smug. “Settled, then. I promise you, Swan, it’ll be all the safer for my presence.”

And he takes his leave, swaggering out of the loft with that smug smirk still on his face.

Emma fumes for the rest of the day. And the next. But try as she might, she can’t think of a way to avoid Killian coming with her. There aren’t any reasons, not even far-fetched ones, why he can’t. Even the argument that he’s not used to this realm doesn’t hold water, because she knows how fast he adapts. And he’s been to New York twice before, after all, and navigated the place just fine.

There’s no way to avoid it. She could tie him up somewhere, and he’d be free and on his way within the hour.

And the thought of moving to New York with Killian Jones in tow is...

Terrifying. Even the knowledge that he’s not bound to stay in Storybrooke like the others has made the world out there feel a lot less...  _safe_.

Not that she’s scared of him. She’s bested him plenty of times. She knows how to handle him. How to hurt him. He wears his emotions on his sleeve, with her, and she knows she can use that to hurt him.

The fact that he trusts her not to might be the scariest thing about him.

She  _so_  can’t go to New York with him.

The problem is, she really can’t explain why. She’s been so insistent that it’s safer for Henry, and Killian’s presence  _would_  make it safer, there’s no arguing that.

It’s not about safety. It never was. And he knows it, too, the bastard.

She’s tempted to just not bring it up. To just stay, one day to the next, until they all forget that she was ever planning to leave.

But they won’t forget. Henry isn’t forgetting, taking every opportunity to remind her that he wants to stay, to point out how nice it is to hang out in Granny’s, how much she enjoys her work.

And Emma can’t help thinking that  _Killian_  would say it. Has said it, in the past, when she confronted him about turning his ship around to help save Henry, when she asked if he risked everything to save her family.

“Swan,” he says, when she finds him down at the docks, staring out across the sea. There’s no sign of the  _Jolly Roger_ , and yet again, Emma wonders what the hell happened to it. She catches a moment of wistfulness in his eyes before the smirk is back. “What brings you here? Travel plans?”

He’s good; she can’t see even a hint of his true feelings behind that sarcastic, smug mask. But the fact that it’s in place tells her everything she needs to know, if she cares to listen.

Trust, she knows, has to go both ways.

She takes a breath. “No. Actually, I’ve changed my mind about that. I’m staying here.”

The smirk disappears. His eyes soften, although there’s still plenty of caution in the way his eyebrows lift. He’s sinful when he’s smug, but he’s devastating when he’s honest, like this. “Oh?”

“Yeah.” She shrugs, trying to look casual despite her wildly pattering heart. “I thought about it, and... well. There  _was_  a flying monkey. And the Dark One. And a vengeful pirate.”

He winces, but it’s for show. “Aye.”

“So, probably not all that safe,” she concludes, in that wry tone she’s starting to hate because it feels like just another way of running.

“Probably not,” he agrees easily. There’s no trace of smugness in his features now, and Emma’s fear seems to have vanished. He’s not going to lord this over her. None of them will. “Well, I can’t say I’m sorry, love. The place had its charms, but all things considered, I prefer it here.”

“Yeah?” It’s not until she says it that she realises what she’s asking. He said it like it’s a given that he’s staying here if she is, and until right now, she didn’t realise just how much she’s been wondering about that.

“Oh, yes.” He grins, a genuine, wide smile like sunshine that makes his eyes sparkle and lights up his whole face. “For one thing, getting arrested is so much more enjoyable here.”

She grins back, and maybe she should be more terrified than ever, but it’s like stepping off a ledge only to find out that you can fly. Instead of scared, she just feels relieved. Hopeful. Free.

Safe.


End file.
